Forgiveness- To Purpose

People make choices that adversely affect loved ones who are minding their own business. Or the ones who have been tolerant of behavior that, who do not necessarily adhere to the biblical teachings of God’s son’s insistence on forgiveness and turning the other cheek. The ones who, out of love or this weird inherited familial obligation offer up additional opportunities to purpose forgiveness.

I am unimpressed by this act. Its cost is way too much. The act of forgiveness requires a balancing of boundaries and grace. Neither offer any tangible benefit. Nothing outside of commendation from onlookers.

“You’re such a supportive (insert relation here). It’s good that you’re here.”

Bull shit. It’s all bullshit. The pain that comes with holding a position that you are both ill-equipped for and undeserving of does not serve purpose.

The details are unimportant. They will trigger many. And that is a pain I choose not to inflict on others in asking why.

Why must we endure the repercussions from selfish acts of loved ones where we are endangered because substance abuse is classified as a sickness? Why must we continue to suffer through situations that damage and begets trauma. Reluctantly participating in a theft of time, missing opportunities to move in true purpose because someone is suffering from the sickness of addiction? Where is the care for the ones who become collateral damage? Constantly being asked to forgive, forget, be patient, show kindness, and grace. Having to stare at the face of blatant disregard for your human existence. The money that you will never get back. “lost” items that held value, if only to you. Interupted days. Empty promises and the constant worry of phone calls from numbers ending in 000. I am weary of it.

I have chosen my boundaries as I have no more room to continue to do God’s job. I am poor substitute lacking in so much. I have not asked for the ability to continue to extend grace to those who continue to disregard my purpose in effort to meet their immediate concerns. It’s enabling abuse. An abuse that has stolen from me the ability to extend grace to myself. I have decided to no longer squander my prayers by not praying for myself. To no longer squander my energy worrying about danger and loss at the hands of someone who has this malingering sickness that constantly needs feeding. It’s a joint effort that I choose not to participate in.

Peace comes at an exorbitant cost. It’s worth, immeasurable. Yet we willingly give it away in the name of that weird inherited familial obligation of love. A family affair, each member engages in the theft of peace. All for one and one for themselves.

It is destructive. When the squeaky wheel gets the oil, the other wheels are simply, left. Collateral damage is far reaching, disruptive to the delicate balance of boundaries and grace. For me, the balance will always tip in favor of boundaries. In that, I extend to myself and the rest of the weirdos, grace.

The struggle to answer my questions isn’t always apparent. Recently, I decided to walk into a space that would require extra protection. I asked for it. I received what I asked for. Along with that protection came discernment, which was not anticipated. I felt the closeness of spirit when it was time, telling me to leave the space. The gift of extending oneself grace is clarity of mind and the ability to recognize when spirit is speaking, guiding, and protecting me. My path was made clear with each step to make my way out of the space. Literally. Minimal traffic, no public nuisance to avoid, green lights, and home in about 25mins. A sense of peace restored.

It is just a sense, mind. The struggle to find balance and answers remain.